yourfingers brush my arm softly, w/o reason. like
an act of war
my coat stumbles onto your presence
as a drunkard finds peace and
god behind the
   wheel
_the young trees, hemming us in like [the]cold wool against our ankles.
it's been waiting
         to waterlog us.now.for quite some time
//
    i will look no further than your aluminum eyebrows.against
the windows
       here i'll be.    
featureless as
  ever
fearless as the morning.


as we become fauna for future ages to name